Playing Footsie *

I haven't really been inclined to knit socks. Why do it when so many look so functional, and er, like something Rosie the Riveter might have worn to work? I'm all about nice-looking and feminine, and socks for the most part just don't seem to go with skirts and dresses! I mean do you see the models in Vogue wearing socks or even celebrities at the various movie premieres? No, socks are just too practical to be pretty. They're just something to wear to bed or when it's so cold you might freeze some digits down there.

But I've been rethinking my position, only because my fingers are so bored on the bus and the train these days. There's only so much you can read or text to Twitter. So I want to knit something that's easy on the debit card and lightweight to carry. But I want a challenge. I'm thinking I might enjoy making these Pom Pom Peds (or these footlets)...so similar to the dozens and dozens of cotton Liz Claiborne ones I've bought at Marshalls over the past years. I'd imagine the ones I'd make would be so soft and comfy that I would never ever buy any more anklet socks. I'd love 'em so much that I would be inspired to make them for my mother, sisters, friends and bloggers I've befriended over the years. I could even see myself buying those antique darning eggs you often see at the antique shop. (I swear the Antique and Resale Shoppe has a few in a 1940s-era sewing basket I can picture now). Then I would lovingly repair all my homemade socks. (I should tell you I already stitch up any holey socks on my Viking Husqvarna. I just push the heavy knit and 'faux' serger buttons, and stitch away with made-for-knits needle on my machine. Done in 30 seconds.)

So I could see myself phasing out the machinemade in China or Viet Nam sockies in favor of the knitted-at-home ones that can be worn with flip-flops, slippers or my Natural Sport slip-on sneakers (so wonderful for dancing!). But I will never ever wear Crocs (I'm a member of I Don't Care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass club on Facebook). I might, just might make lacy socks but none of those multi-colored ones that look something the Seven Dwarves might wear to cut down wood in the forest.

Will it be cheaper to make my own? Probably not. But it will keep me entertained on the bus, which I think is almost more important. I'll become one of those knitters who memorize their patterns and can crank out these things like somebody's business with impromptu variations. Wanna a leaf at the ankle? Done. Your initials on the bottom? Consider your John Hancock duly noted. So stripes or even an argyle pattern? A little trickier, but give me a couple of weeks and your feet will be decorated by you know who. And we're not talking about tattoos, a whole other topic.

I figure one of the patterns above will be easy enough to learn. If not, I can pester my mom who has aced the sock-making process to the point she's got a few pairs saved up for Christmas. I won't have to go to the local sock-making store or even yelp for help at the local SnB. I can go to mom's (and raid the refrigerator in the process). And the cost of the yarn - even a nice 100 percent merino wool variety - won't bust the checkbook. I can master those wobbly double-pointed needles. (I had trouble trying to make a pair of fingerless gloves with those things and I ripped up the project without guilt and made a sweater instead.) I can stash, needles, yarn and my ego all in my to-go bag.

Now I must check on all those clean cotton anklet socks drying on a rack in my living room. They feel a little stiff, but wait til I get little socks - handwashed probably - on the same rack. Any of you who come over for dinner on wash day Wednesday (which is really any day I have a $1.25 in quarters and enough detergent) are in for a Show N' Tell. See pretty socks! Touch the little pom-pom I made. Isn't that sooo cute? Bop me on the head if you get such a lame presentation, but don't do it before you eat, ok? If you do, you might not get dinner or even an appetizer. My pride might be sorely wounded if you act disinterested or even laugh at my sockies. You know Chris Evert would love to have a pair of these? She'd probably would have really appreciated two or four back in the day when she wore the machine-made ones on the tennis courts. Now of course that she's married to Greg Norman, she doesn't care a whit about foot comfort on the court except when she's padding around the house late at night nibbling or watching "Dancing With the Stars" (I don't know if she really does this; I'm just imagining.)

Do you think if I made a pair for Rachel Ray, she'd wear them on her show? Seriously. (For those of you who don't like this woman, skip this part.) I thought about sewing her a surplice-wrap top (think the popular Kwik Sew pattern), but I don't know her measurements. I might have to do a FBA (I don't need to do one myself - I'm in the small-bust club). She looks a little short-waisted too. Would her public relations staff give me her measurements if I asked or would they just consider me a wacko? Or could I just get away with asking for her foot size without people thinking I have a foot fetish? But would she show her new socks with gusto pre-cooking on her show? I can't see that. But a top! That would hog the show big time, especially is she spilled some pesto sauce on it at some point. Then it would end up as a clip on the People Magazine funny moments on TV site. But it would be a complete disaster if my handiwork didn't fit right or looked mousy. What's the point of making something that just gets tossed in the Salvation Army donation pile? Pointless, I say.

Really. I'm better off making anklet socks for friends and family who I can actually give to in person. Watch their eyes light up in delight (I hope) and appreciation (they better, or take my knitted loveliness back faster than Batman can fly to the moon.) Now would I make socks for a man. Maybe. But not my brothers - not one of the seven. They wouldn't even put them on unless they were chained to a hospital bed. Then they might. So I'm not even going to go to the Socks for Men department right now. It might be a long while if I ever do. Let's just master the gusset first, ok? I'm going to go order my yarn for Knitpicks. Impatiently wait for my order to arrive in the slow-cooker mail, then go eat at the family household, and then bother the matriarch. I can't knit on an empty stomach or I might go poke someone's brown eye out with a double-pointed needle. Gosh, writing about food made me hungry. Oddly enough, it didn't exacerbate my desire to knit.
* The bag you see above? I crocheted that on a silk shantung lining from Tilli Tomas, which I can't find online anymore. Next time, I'd use more yarn and crochet a little looser, so the bag wouldn't look so pointy...

What Do You Think of Sew-A-Longs, TNTs*

I took my inspiration from this knitting-related blog post. It got me ruminating. I've sometimes been tempted to join the sew-a-longs at Patternreview, but then I get caught up like a spider in a web in other things I need to do work-wise. Somehow, I feel like if I get snared in a Sew-A-Long, I'll just spend more time on the laptop, instead of being social. For me personally, I'm better off going to a Stitch N Bitch for some human contact since I'm often by myself all day long.

On the other hand, a sew-a-long might be the kick in the sailor pants to get going on some projects that I'm shying away from. How do you feel about sew-a-longs? I guess I'm really intrigued after 75 sewers signed up for a coat sew-a-long. What inspired all these people to sign up quicker than lickety-split for this collaboration? Was it the prodigious project? Somehow I don't think people would be as inspired if they were stitching up a pair of undies or an apron. Or does the organizer have a really charismatic personality? I'm sometimes wonder what would occur if I launched a sew-a-long blog. Of course, I'd have to promote it on a crafty web site with heavy traffic just for the project to get some attention. I'm not sure I'm currently known "well enough" in the sewing community to attract more than a handful of participants. Or does it really depend on how "established" you are? Do you need to feel like you "know" your fearless fun leader in order to jump in feet first into a shared, online project? My final thought: do sewers leap on board simply because so many others have crossed the pedestrian bridge? I'll admit the Great Coat Sew-A-Long appeared enticing only after I heard it was closed to new participants. But then again, I could have been one of the lame sewists who signed up and didn't pick up a pair of scissors or even pick out a pattern. It's kind of like how my ace fingers rapidly signed me up to become one of Ravelry's beta testers, but then when I finally did get the invite, it took me forever and a few days to upload pictures of my knitting masterpieces to the site.

Talk of Sew-A-Longs brings me to another related topic: TNTs. This abbrevation and its use online sewing communities cracks me up because the first thing that comes to my brain when I hear, "TNT" is the stuff that's used to make explosives, and not anything remotely to do with sewing, fabric and patterns. But as I understand it, TNT means "Tried and (N) True" as in any pattern that's worth using again and again until it falls apart or out of favor. At one time, I would have said this pattern was a TNT because I sewed it at least seven times, exactly the same way: lengthen the torso by two inches, and using a McCall sleeve. Over and over not quite in my sleep because I think that might be dangerous, I did it. Now I'm tired of it in the way I got quickly tired of "The Rules" which by the way, I actually burned on my porch. I don't think I'll torch my Kwik-Sew pattern. I'll just let it become pals with the dust-mites.

Now there is another pattern that's most certainly a TNT. It's this Kwik-Sew bathing suit pattern. Since the three purply bathing suits I made last year are already falling apart, I feel like it's time to make another trio soon. I was thinking I might try another view this time just to keep the task somewhat interesting. I'm also going to use different fabrics to keep it lively. I at least need to use a print for limbo's sake!

I think that's really the only "active" TNT pattern in my collection. Wait. I take that back. The Santa Monica T pattern falls in the "tried and true" category. I haven't sewn it lately, but I've been thinking about it since I have a scallop-edge stretch lace remnant that would be perfect. The thing I love about this pattern is how easy it is. The hardest part is using a twin-needle to stitch down the neckline. If I didn't do that, this pattern would be almost easy enough for a 8-year-old sewer to make, although I think the darts in the sleeve are a bit disconcerting for someone just starting out. The darts in the sleeves and not the bodice are bit unexpected, don't you think? What are your TNT patterns? I'm eager to hear. I suspect the Jalie patterns I bought in December will become "favs" once I get around to sewing them.

In other non-related sewing/knitting news, Hamlet appears to be adjusting to his new home if all the sleeping he's doing is any indication. He's older dog (11 to be exact), so maybe he needs all extra sleep. He also also has some trouble getting up the stairs, but there's no elevator so that's the way it's going to be found. Since he snoozes plenty, I've found more than a Mount Kilimanjaro's excuse not to take him out for walks. He hasn't been outside yet today, but I have to Dunkin Donuts for an iced coffee. Unless he's begging and whining, "Please, please, let's go outside" in dog-speak, I'm afraid I'm going to put it off for at least another hour.
* Here is my TNT in a pretty floral print that just happens to coordinate with my skirt. So what do you think of my photogenic canine companion?